Awkward Silences
by CypressArtemis
Summary: 100  years of living together, they were bound to have some embarrassing yet touching moments.
1. Pick Your Poison

**Title: **Awkward Silences

**By: **CypressArtemis

**Summary: **100+ years of living together, they were bound to have some embarrassing yet touching moments.

**Pick Your Poison  
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><p>He just stands there.<p>

Eyes ahead, mouth closed, disinterest marring his notably handsome and stoic features.

The other nobles are cloistered around him like he _is_ the one and only almighty being and them his flock.

Words are spoken, but not from him.

Oh no.

He refuses even to look at her and the thought that he would even bother to speak to her is absurd to the point of laughing, though she knows her place and proceeds with tightly drawn lips.

To speak he would have to acknowledge that she is there and they certainly couldn't have that.

She stands there in silence as she is presented with this _good_ news.

This _magnificent _offer.

This stoic emotionless almighty being, ominous as a forthcoming thundercloud in darkened skies. He looms foreboding, silent and deadly, and so very unpredictable.

And just like any thunderhead, just when she thinks it's safe, that she is in the clear, he strikes.

Not with words, but with a glance.

Cold dull greys flicker sideways for only an instant, but it's long enough to pierce her frightened and confused violet ones.

It is a look that makes her wonder if she should quiver in timidity or scream in outrage.

She bites her tongue and chooses to lower her eyes as they shimmer with unshed tears in this very awkward moment.

Yes or no.

She cannot decide.

The doors burst open, her friend excitedly ranting runs in and she glances at him.

The nobles are displeased and her face twinges pink despite the gravity of the situation.

They make to leave and she watches them go as Renji watches the Kuchiki lord advancing in his direction.

Renji watches as he takes note of the important mass flooding from the room, eyes locked on the young lord.

He is tall, towering over her small stature, and when he walks he glides across the floor with all the grace and elegance of a coryphée.

His spirt pressure is immense even when suppressed, but as he passes the red head he allows a quaint majority to spill forth.

The brown hues of the student cannot meet his grey ones, cannot measure up to him.

His power, his strength, his wealth are all unsurpassable to this mere ignorant brat with the nerve to even consider catching his eyes.

He passes and the man trembles.

She sees this.

Good.

He alone can protect her and this… boy dare not stand in his way.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Drabbles are really not my thing so I'm sorry if this is lousy, but thanks for reading anyway.


	2. What She Doesn't Know

**Title: **Awkward Silences

**By: **CypressArtemis

**Summary: **100+ years of living together, they were bound to have some embarrassing yet touching moments.

**What She Doesn't Know****  
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><p>There were several things Hisana hadn't know about her sister other than her whereabouts.<p>

For instance, she didn't know the girl had a fondness for rabbits.

_Kuchiki Byakuya had seen many unusual things in his time, but it all his years he had never witnessed anything quite like this. Steel gray orbs blinked at the bewilderment of such behavior. Not moments ago he had been patrolling the hallways of the grande structure of the manor as per his routine. Everything was in place as it normally was but when he caught the flicker of black robes disappearing into a cluster of azure bellflowers he walked out onto the porch and glanced about till his eyes fell prey to the epitome of juvenile delinquency._

_Bouncing out of the foliage was a brown cotton tailed rabbit. It stopped, flattened its ears, and licked at its paws. As the fluffy creature groomed itself the blur of black and white robes tumbled out, nimble fingers earnestly reaching for the chestnut glob of fur that pounced away effortlessly. His adopted sister clashed with the dirt and pouted, eyes shimmering with tears as the bunny hopped away and beyond her grasp. _

"_Chappy," she whimpered pitifully and Byakuya cleared his throat._

"_Rukia," he watched her flinch as she turned to look at him, her cheeks a deep rouge with the embarrassment of the situation. "Do pick yourself up from the dirt and behave in a more dignified manner."_

_He swerved intent on continuing on with his day as a tiny muffled "Yes, nii-sama" lingered after his retreating form. _

She didn't know that her younger sibling adored rice dumplings.

_Dinner time was always awkward and the new addition to the family always fidgeted in her seat beside him in great unease. Conversation was a rarity and although he was perfectly content to dwell comfortably in the peaceful silence, his sister was not. _

"_How was your day, nii-sama?" Her attempt at easing her own discomfort with small talk only enhanced his. She picked up her chopsticks and poked rudely at her food rather than eat it. He'd studied her over several meals and had eventually come to the conclusion she was ashamed to eat in his presence. _

_She wasn't a graceful eater. She often held her chopsticks the wrong way, or too loosely, and she ended up dropping her food before it reached her mouth. She was always slouching in her seat, leaning into the table without noticing and when she felt him eyeing her oddly she would assess her mistake and sit up straight. _

"_Tedious," he responded as his sister eyed the rice dumpling on her plate like she was starving, and she may very well have been considering she had skipped out on lunch. _

_The tips of her chopsticks stabbed at it till a piece broke off and she worked the little wooden sticks as she tried to pick it up. Each attempt usually ended the same way. She'd hoist the clump of food just inches about the plate before it slipped out and she would stare at it with determination set in her violet pools and a subtle pout on her lips._

_Byakuya set down his own chopsticks in order to sip at his tea. The tiny glass cup residing between elegant fingers as little puffs of steam swirled into the air. _

_Rukia glared at her food for refusing to cooperate and making her look stupid and foolish in front of her stoic brother. Her tiny hand shook. She could still feel his gaze burning into her with disapproval and she thought briefly if he wasn't such a collected man he would probably be chuckling at her foolishness by now. That or berating her nonexistent skill. _

_Defeated and deciding she didn't need to continue the charade she placed her chopsticks silently on the napkin to her right and picked up her tea. She refused to eat in front of him and resigned herself to go to bed hungry. Anything was better than the humiliation of continuing to show him how unworthy of nobility she was._

_When Byakuya set his cup down and stood from the table a glimmer of hope ignited inside her. If he left the table perhaps she could finish her dumpling without him being there to scrutinize her eating habits. The glimmer dwindled and turned into shock as he kneeled back down beside her. Picking up her eating utensils his fingers wrapped around her wrist and he maneuvered the wooden sticks between her delicate fingers till they were adequate and to his liking. _

_His pointer finger brushed over hers, helping her move the top stick to grip a piece of the rice. Silently he released her hand and stood as he sunk back into his own seat leaving her to her own devices. Still sloppy she practiced the flow of movement a few times before attempting to take a bite on her own._

_When she was successful she smiled at him, "thank you nii-sama."_

_He nodded and ignored her the remainder of their meal. _

She wasn't aware that the two of them were near identical.

_Byakuya had developed a nasty habit of comparing his sister to his dearly departed wife when the petite female happened to gain his interest enough to make him glance her way, which didn't happen often, thankfully. As a general rule he tended to avoid her whenever possible and if he walked into a room that she was already occupying he ghosted out like an illusion and left her staring after him in wonder. _

_It became common knowledge around the manor that Byakuya Kuchiki was a bit of an insomniac and, either out of habit or to quell boredom, on those nights he found sleep evasive he would wander about the gardens. At first this intrigued the violet eyed girl and she would watch him in fascination through her bedroom window. _

_Very few times had she even considered the idea of joining him on these nightly strolls before she disregarded such a crazy idea. Things between them were tense and awkward enough without putting more pressure on them. It was agony to be in the same room with the man when she was required to so why add salt to the wound by following him when she clearly was not welcome? It was irrational. _

_But what was it about the gardens that intrigued him enough to venture through them night after night? Certainly nothing would have changed drastically enough in twenty four hours to gain his attention. All though she spent a majority of her day at the squad 13 barracks she was more than positive that no one came by during the day to plant anything new so it's not like their was something for him to inspect. No job to be sure was completed right._

_It confused her. It was like he had some personal secret out there hidden amongst the flowers and the rocks, the trees and the koi pond nestled beneath the cherry timber bridge. It called to her hauntingly and if her nii-sama had a secret, well frankly, she wanted to know about it. _

_So she waited till he had ventured off into the sunrise to get a jump on his paperwork and slipped into her uniform. She tied her sword into the obi of her robes and tiptoed her way through the halls keeping a wary eye out for the maids. The lot of them had such big mouths. _

_When she emerged onto the stone path she began her descent, liquid purple sweeping the surrounding in search of anything out of the ordinary. It was only by the time she had slunk up to the middle of the bridge that she straightened and wondered about her own sanity._

_Exactly what was she looking to find? Like there was going to be some box nestled in the leaves of the powder pink azaleas with a note attached saying: Byakuya's most guarded secrets. Or perhaps she would shift around the rocks rimming the outline of the flowerbeds and under one there would be his journal wrapped and sealed within a plastic bag so as to not be destroyed by the rain._

_She scoffed. _

_This was such a stupid idea. She had allowed her imagination to run wild with the hopes of finally figuring out the enigma that was Kuchiki Byakuya she had failed to notice the lack of logic in her actions. Shrugging she waltzed across the remainder of the bridge and sat beneath a billowing white willow placed beside the pond._

_She gazed at the orange and white splotched fish as they swam around in the crystal water. Wind created ripples upon the surface and lily pads glided sluggishly on the miniscule currents. Caught up in relaxing she hadn't noticed his approach till his shadow fell upon her. _

_When she glanced up her brother was there. His cold eyes swept her face briefly and then turned to the tranquil waters. She thought to say something, but what? Should she apologize for being out here? But when she really thought about it, did she have any reason to apologize? This was her house too now, wasn't it?_

_Byakuya seemed focused on the pond and when her mouth opened she instantly snapped it shut. Why remind him of her presence if he was already preoccupied on something else? She could get up and leave, that way she wouldn't be in his way._

_Yes, that seemed like a plan. She forced her body upright slowly and his eyes flickered back onto her face causing her to halt. For a long moment the silence was deafening as he took in the appearance of the girl he had tried so hard to avoid. _

_They looked so much alike._

_That strip of inky hair that hung between their large doe eyes, their petite stature, the milkiness of their skin. So much resemblance they could pass for twins if Hisana had still been alive. Though it was never quite like looking at an exact replica. Hisana's hair was far more frayed, the blue-violet of her eyes lighter that this girl's, and her face much softer and gentler contrasted Rukia's firm emotionless one. _

"_Excuse me nii-sama," she bowed respectfully and successful broke his lamenting of the two most important females that had entered his life. "I must be headed to squad 13 now."_

"_You're dismissed then." She straightened only to find him no longer paying her any mind. He was focused on the water again and she sighed as she left him to unknowingly wallow in his nostalgic memories of his first true love, her sister. _

She would definitely never have the slightest clue that her one and only sister was a talented Shinigami.

_Byakuya had only shown up because Ukitake had made it sound so urgent, but when he arrived the white haired man had little to really say that the Kuchiki noble would find important. The squad 13 captain had offered his fellow captain a cup of tea and, not wanting to seem rude, Byakuya accepted purely out of obligation. _

_So he sat silently drinking the piping hot bronze liquid as the sickly captain rambled on something about how there were quite a number of hollows appearing in the living world recently. The Kuchiki head nodded at the appropriate times, never really saying much of anything until the other man made a statement that would unknowingly change his world and send it crashing into a heap of rubble._

"_I'm sending Rukia to the living world to deal with the increasing threat," he felt it his obligation to inform the 6__th__ division captain. He had a suspicion that the man's sister would fail to do so and the last thing that Ukitake wanted was an irate Byakuya showing up at his division and demanding her location as Senbonzakura raided the air._

_Byakuya's eyes narrowed as his gray irises seemed to intensify. He was never informed of this nor was he even asked permission for his sister to be sent out on such a mission and this, he had decided, was unacceptable. "Absolutely not."_

_Ukitake sighed at his growing temper Even if he agreed with the noble and wanted to refuse sending the girl into the living world it was likely too late anyway. For all he knew the girl was probably gone already. He had given her the news and she had taken off to gather her things and report to the assigned location immediately. It was too late to call it off now and besides, he never would have chose her if he wasn't confident in her capabilities. _

"_She will be fine Captain Kuchiki. Her abilities surpass her position and there is absolutely nothing to worry about." He paused momentarily and eyes the man. He appeared calm on the outside but Ukitake knew what Byakuya was really like and this man was not calm, nor happy in the least. "Besides," he smiled brightly "she's probably already gone."_

"_Is that so?" Byakuya never waited for an answer as he set the cup down a little harder than was necessary and stood without finishing its contents. "From here on you will inform me of every, and all, missions she is to partake in. I will not let another incident such as this slide again." _

_Ukitake laughed nervously as Byakuya flash stepped away, leaving him there to finish the pot of tea alone and with much anxiety as to how their next meeting would play out. _

She was also oblivious to her kin's uncanny talent for trouble.

_When Byakuya had put to and to together he found himself more enraged than he could ever recall being, and that included all his younger years when a certain purple haired woman had worked him into enough of a frenzy to get him to yell obscenities. _

_She knew the laws of Soul Society and by giving her power away to a lowly human boy she had created a horrible scandal that would dishonor the name he so generously allowed her to call her own. Not only that, but there was the matter of jail time for her and being branded a criminal forever. She had dishonored him, dishonored the family, and most of all dishonored her sister. _

_He didn't care to look at her. To see the face of shame, the pathetic human expressions adapted to her once emotionless face. He didn't care to lay eyes upon the woman that resembled her so much, that carried the same face that would soon be sneered at by all of Soul Society._

_He allowed her the opportunity to make things easier on herself after he cut down the insolent brat with the outrageously flamboyant hair. She chose to make them worse instead, ignoring his silent plea not to as he informed her that touching him in his last moments would only increase her charges._

_Tears rolled down her cheeks as she went to him, kicking his arm when the deluded boy that second ago thought himself on par with a captain grabbed at his pants. This fool had the nerve to touch him and although Rukia had put an end to it under the guise of berating the 'lowly human' Byakuya was no idiot. _

_He could see her only reasoning for hurting this child was to keep him from finishing him off then and there but also to set groundwork for the future. If he was under the impression that she considered him unworthy of her time and made to believe that she would hate him forever chances were good he would stay put in this world where he belonged. If he lived he would not follow after her, and that was a pretty big if when taken into account the copious amount of blood that stained the sidewalk. _

_When they left through the doors she had glanced back and the amber eyes of the human widened. The anguish in those purple depths had caused something to stir in that boy that Byakuya could not comprehend. _

She'd never witness the moment her sister was nearly killed because of his weakness.

_He had played his indifferent role well enough as he dropped sentence on her. Still angry as ever he had a fleeting thought that she deserved this. She had broken the law despite knowing its consequences and now she will pay them. He will not stand in the way of justice. He had already made the promise to his parents' graves and he had already resigned himself long ago to uphold order. He cannot, must not, interfere._

_But that sinking feeling of guilt stabbed his guts as he ran over the situation in his head. His sister was to die over a minor crime and he was to break his promise to his beloved all for the law of Soul Society. Nothing made sense anymore, especially when the ryoka invaded the Seireitei, his lieutenant went rouge, and the human brat with the oversized zanpakuto destroyed the sokyoku. _

_His intolerance of the substitute shinigami only grew as the arrogant youth ran his mouth, preaching about values over rules and the love of family, the protective instinct of a brother to his sister, that Byakuya did not understand until he lay broken and bleeding. Rukia kneeling at his side as she clutched his hand in forgiveness he didn't deserve. _

_The best thing that ever happened to Byakuya was his losing the battle to Kurosake Ichigo, because when it came down to it, Byakuya had nothing to fight for. _

But out of all the things she didn't know there was one in particular that perturbed the stoic noble most.

Byakuya closed the lavender journal softly and slipped it back into place on the book shelf.

In their five years of marriage Hisana had only ever referred to her, in both her journal and in conversation, as 'my sister'.

Of all things Hisana lacked knowledge about the most heart wrenching thing must have been the fact that she had never even known the girl's name.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Thanks for reading :)  
>Hope this one was decent.<p> 


	3. Scandalous

**Title: **Awkward Silences

**By: **CypressArtemis

**Summary: **100+ years of living together, they were bound to have some embarrassing yet touching moments.

**Warning**: Mention of incest.

**Scandalous  
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><p>The woman ambles aimlessly about the street, carrying a woven basket of produce as her brown eyes glint with mischievous joy. Her glances sway with scrutiny at every noise, vulture eyes in search of pray as she paces on, the epitome of gossip bound in the flesh of a middle-aged housewife.<p>

Her analytical stares turn and stop, her strides filling with purpose as she spots another woman across the way. When they are a respectable distance she leans in, her voice slinking between her teeth in a hushed whisper. "Have you heard?"

The fellow housewife clutches a bag closer to her chest. Honey hair spilling over her shoulder and dusting the plastic, hazel orbs suddenly very excited in the slightly wrinkled flesh. "About the Kuchiki family?" She nods viciously. It has been the talk of Seireitei since the petite mass of fidgets and blushes had begun to follow the impressive lord Kuchiki Byakuya about with all the loyalty of an imprinted puppy.

The fact that the other housewife knows seems to please the woman and she nods, then her head takes a new direction as she shakes it in disgust. "Yes, what shame." She declares with such insistence the blonde is bobbing her head around in agreement like a deranged turkey.

"To bring such a…," She hesitates in manner that suggests she is attempting to remain proper. Finally she seethes and bites out, "_lower class _woman into such a magnificently honorable clan. Such disgrace."

Brown eyes shimmer in vindictive glee and she tucks a wandering strand of red hair behind her ear and scoffs. "To think, Byakuya Kuchiki, would disgrace his name by taking yet another lover from such a trashy district."

The blond blinks at the suggested label and squints, "Lover?" The shock is on splayed on her face as she brings a palm to her decorated ruby lips.

"Well of course. If he thinks the adoption act is fooling anyone he certainly is daft!" The red head stomps her foot in determination and catches the eyes of a few passersby along with a pair of devoid grays. "Why, after all, such remarkable resemblance to his wife what more could it possible be? Nothing."

The woman prattles on as surrounding individuals grow uneasy around them. They swallow hard, tilt their eyes till they are downcast with respect, and scurry like mice in the presence of a cat. The women seem oblivious to the turn of events until a much younger female practically jogs away, nudging the blonde in the arm as she goes.

The woman clutches her bag closer as it slips from her shoulder due to the careless woman scampering down the way. She watches the retreating form and her mouth drifts open, ready to scream at the girl to be more careful when she is nudged by her companion who is currently wide-eyed and still as a deer. She turns, goes ridged, and gasps.

Kuchiki Byakuya has heard them.

He looks them over with icy scorn swirling like a blizzard in his gray irises then turns his head with surprisingly relaxed brows. He carries on with all the grace that makes the chattering buxom females quiver, faces heating with admiring desire and repulsion, and pure undiluted terror. The ebony wisps of his hair sway with every controlled movement while padding softly upon the alabaster of his haori as he condemns them to oblivion with his senses.

They gape on in irritation as he blatantly ignores them instead of reprimanding their atrocious behavior. It's as though their timbering whispers are no more worthy to be heard by his ears than the death rattles of hollows imploring his stoic grace for mercy.

They disband from one another as quickly as water evaporates in the searing heat. Each making their way home to attend their wifely duties they spare a last glance at the powerful male making his way towards the 13th division. They both blink in surprise to find a certain female is not at his side today.

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><p>Ukitake watches his subordinate swing the pure white blade of her zanpakuto, fighting the invisible hollows that leap out from the shadows to deliver the death blow. She is determined, her brows knitted in a crease as her violet gems blaze bright with furry.<p>

He smiles as takes note of her inclining progress, letting her continue her practice as nothing more than a silent observer. Looking over the minuscule mistakes in her tactics and movements that she makes along her way, he will be sure to bring them up another time and help her right those wrongs.

A massively contained aura appears behind him and Ukitake closes his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to take in the fellow captain's energy. It's pungent, dark, and turbulent beneath a sea of false calm. Ukitake's smile slips as his eyes maneuver back to the small woman slashing into a tree trunk, oblivious of the newcomer. "You're seem angry today, Byakuya."

The fact Ukitake has failed to address him properly sends a wave of energy pulsing through the air around them. The white haired man feels the cold gray eyes burrowing into him at the lack of formability and his smile returns full force now. A subtle chuckle rumbling in his chest as Byakuya squints harder at the peculiar reaction.

"Before you even consider to ask, I assure you there is nothing in which you need to be concerned." It's a flat statement as both captains watch Rukia flash step and stumble as her eyes catch a glimpse of black on white. Her brother's aura now radiating through the air to her and it only increases as she falls into a kneeling position upon the dirt and grass.

She flushes as she senses the spike of irritation and squabbles back onto her feet. Moving forward she sheaths her sword and stares at the ground as she approaches her stoic brother. He has reeled in all his reitsu, hiding it behind a thick veil of indifference, blocking her from reading him any farther.

She sighs when he begins walking before she's even reached him.

She has disappointed her nii-sama.

A frown tugs her lips downward and she jogs to catch up to him, taking residence at his side as per usual. They pass streets of people who gawk at them, gawk at him, gawk at _her_. Always the center of the unwanted attention as they whisper and hiss, pointing directly at her as she sluggishly walks beside the muscular form of her nii-sama.

They both pretend not to know what they are saying. The only real difference between them is where Rukia lowers her head in embarrassed shame at the bogus suggestiveness of those cruel people, Byakuya meets these insults head on with regality, dignity.

These _people_ are not worthy of his embarrassment, if he ever felt any at all that is.

Her purple eyes flicker admiringly up at his handsome face. He faces forward, head held high, eyes straight as he leads her home for the night.

In a moment of weakness he is everything she wants to be and she finds herself wondering what she'd have to do in order to be his equal. If he could be a lover to his formal wife without receiving such scandal, what did she need to do to minimize the disgrace the thought brought when she was considered?

She bites her lip. She does not want to be considered his lover. It's depraved and she can't understand why she should even be bothered by the idea that his late wife was more acceptable and it is her they can't stand.

Why should she care? She has nothing to be worried over because she will never require their acceptance. After all, this powerful man before her is _not_ her lover, he is her _brother_, and he doesn't care what they think either.

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><p>Ukitake can't help smiling as they leave together. The situation in itself does not commonly bring out smiles and giggles but he has never been one to engage in outrage and gossip.<p>

Everyone knows what the inhabitants are saying about the Kuchiki siblings. All the captains, all the citizens, all the maids, all the Kuchiki elders. Those who don't know Byakuya turn their heads in distaste. Those who hardly know him question his motives for the adoption with one another in the hallways. Those who do know him meet his grey eyes with certainty and respect.

Ukitake, who knows him more than anyone, smiles at the ridiculousness of it all.

He sees the discomfort in both the siblings and wants to laugh, but instead he smiles. Smiles at Byakuya to let him know there is still one person that knows the truth. Smiles at Rukia so she knows he is not lead astray by slander and secretly labeling her as some sort of harlot.

The looks she gives her brother though are ones that bother her and make him amused. She's young and she doesn't quite understand her own infatuation. She hasn't connected the admiration to that of her mind seeking acceptance from him, a reprieve from his discontent stares.

She terrifies herself by over thinking and complicating the situation. Her analytical side screams that her adoration is purely sexual attraction while the moral half argues this to be obscenely degenerative.

He knows better but thinks eventually this manner of thinking will get her in trouble down the road.

What she wants is not far from what all kin want from their older siblings, parents, and teachers.

_I can tie my shoes._

Look at me.

_I can count to 10._

Acknowledge me.

_I can write my name in perfect calligraphy. _

Accept me.

_I can swing my zanpakuto and kill a hollow just like you._

Be proud of me.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Thank you for reading and for those that reviewed the other chapters. Next one may be a bit R rated or I may just do a whole new oneshot specifically for them. I haven't decided but it will be done either way because an idea came to me and it's just too sinisterly good not to explore farther. Hahaha.


	4. Humility Before Supremacy

**Title: **Awkward Silences

**By: **CypressArtemis

**Summary: **100+ years of living together, they were bound to have some embarrassing yet touching moments.

**Warning**: Mention of incest and explicit BDSM activity. Dark, sequel to Scandalous. One-sided Byakuya x Rukia & Ichigo x Rukia.

**Rating**: R

**Humility Before Supremacy**

_The affliction of the feel leaves me wanting more.  
>Cause I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it.<br>Sex in the air I don't care, I love the smell of it.  
>Sticks and stones may break my bones but whips and chains excite me.<em>

_- S&M Rihanna**  
><strong>_

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><p>"Rukia?"<p>

"Uh, what?" She blinked her large rare purple irises at the teenager. She hadn't understood why he was suddenly so curious since he never made to ask her about this earlier.

He looked annoyed, but whether it was because of her or the waiting anticipation of his answer she had refused to give so far was unclear. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes." She nodded begrudgingly in wonderment. Exactly what excuse could she give him? Anything was better than the truth and she wracked her brain trying to think of a legitimate explanation.

"Then answer the question." His voice trembled a little, something between a hiss and a gulp as he scowled his signature look. He didn't want to expose just how anxious he suddenly was.

A thin black eyebrow crooked at him. "Why do you care so much?" Good, answer a question with a question. Maybe he'd grow bored and drop the subject. Please let him drop the subject.

"I don't care," he insisted, shoving shaking hands into his pockets and curling them into fists. "Just curious is all."

"Hmm," she stared him for a long moment and watched the pink tint on his cheeks appear briefly. Where was that embarrassment earlier when Orihime was going on about the princess and leather outfits with 'weapons'?

"So?" Ichigo cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes, scowling at her lack of response and trying to move the conversation along less she notice just how incredibly nervous he was at that very moment. It probably wasn't the smartest question for him to have asked her, but god he _had_ to know. He couldn't explain it, but he had to. He _needed_to, needed it like he needed air. "How exactly do you know what a dominatrix is?"

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><p>How she had found him and got roped, figuratively and literally, into this was still a mystery to her. One moment she was desperately clinging to the brothersister relationship that they shared and the next she was hunched over on her knees, staring down to the floor as the black satin draped wistfully over her doe eyes.

"Nii-sama…"

"Shh," a finger pressed against the parted pink suppleness of her lips with surprising gentleness. "Don't speak," he commanded, feeling the warm puffs of her breath tickle the digit before removing the hand from in front of her face.

Obedient as ever her lips clapped together, cutting off the sound of her hesitant panting. His stern eyes watching them twinge with the battling desires to speak and comply with his wishes. The skillful hands went to work behind her head, trying the satin into a knot over the black inky locks of her short hair. Once secured to his satisfaction he ran his fingers through the ebony tresses, soft like silk, and cupped her chin in an almost loving embrace.

Tilting her head up his eyes swept over her face. Her pink lips a tight line, her teeth pressing them closed from the inside. A strand of her deeply colored hair jutted out from the crown of her head and lay nestled along the center of her forehead, the bridge of her nose, and curving about her cheekbone. The thick strap of fabric bound around her eyes standing out against the pale creamy skin of her face blinded those breathtaking amethyst gems beneath.

Helpless.

He smiled a vindictive smile as he stood and circled her petite form in a slow predatory gait. Footsteps echoing on the stone floor made her body respond instantly with a shiver. An excited rush of arousing heat flooded her belly and spread downward causing a gush of liquid to seep out of her core, wetting her sex in preparation for him to penetrate her whenever he saw fit.

One thing about being with him was she never knew what to expect. As far as she was aware there were not constants between them, nothing that was reoccurring enough to be steadfast and reliable. Not even the location they "played" in was the same every time and he always took her without warning. Even when she wasn't blindfolded she never saw it coming until he was already halfway inside her, groaning out in gutteral pleasure.

As he went around her his right arm reached up, the impressive muscles of his forearm curling with the motion. His left hand brought a black fingerless glove from the leather pocket of his pants and slipped it nonchalantly over his right. His fingers straitening as he relished the feel of the leather texture fitting snuggly over his palm, curling between his fingers, massaging his knuckles. His own undiluted enthusiasm rushed through his veins in a persistent throb of pure animalistic hunger.

The button up shirt he'd worn earlier now lay slung over the table corner. He stood beside her shirtless, clad in black leather pants and heavy combat boots. As the adept dominate that he was he pulled out all the stops, wore the signature leather apparel in a way that made him emanate sheer power and raw sexuality. She wouldn't be startled by any means to find out that other dominants in the scene bowed in respect.

He had a natural air about him that demanded adoration, deference, and a pair of eyes to go with it.

Piercingly intense and sinister, the cold dull gray color of steel.

Whenever he looked at her she felt vulnerable, naked, exposed, and god help her she loved every minute of it.

Her thighs clenched together and squeezed discreetly, trying to apply any sort of friction possible to the aching summit of wet heat between her legs while attempting not to be noticed.

A chuckle resounded around her and those footsteps approached her slumped frame from behind.

Busted.

He stopped, the smooth rubber bottoms of his boots now on either side of her knees, the leather clad muscles of his thighs pressed up against the backs of her bare ones as he hunched low behind her.

Her short stature keeping her from feeling the straining of his erection against her perfectly curved ass, still clothed in the red lace he'd specifically instructed she wear. He reached down, splaying his fingers and squeezing her backside as a devious smile spread across his mouth.

The more he touched her the more she bit her lip and whimpered in her throat.

_Touch me!_

_Fuck me!_

She wanted to scream it, shout and order him to do so, but he is one person no one dared to ever try to manipulate.

His knees bent farther and he sunk lower, legs spreading till she could feel his knees glide against the sides of hips. The hard bulge in the front of his pants pressing into the lacy vermillion that she hated very much at the moment.

When his hips ground forward she gasped, her sex throbbing with desire as he teased her relentlessly. His right hipbone pressed hard and rolled slowly giving her an amazing feel of exactly what he had to offer till his left hip greeted her firm ass.

He watched her lips part, mouth open as she panted. She was lost in her desire and he took the perfect opportunity she presented.

His hand rose and descended sharply colliding painfully with a harsh smack.

She squealed and he bent over her, draping the solid muscle of his chest and abdomen against her bare back while fisting her hair and shoving her forward till her arms came down, palm first on the floor to keep from face planting solid concrete.

"Did I say you could pleasure yourself?" He asked, fingers clutching harder at her silky hair, bunching it in his hand till the strands yanked at her scalp in resistance.

She hissed out, her body quivering as he rolled his hips again, distracting her from the dull twinge of pain. "No."

"No, what?" He growled out, all power and husky domineering lust that made her knees quake and her thighs part.

"No, nii-sama." She chocked out.

For a long moment everything was still.

The hand still embedded in her hair flung back yanking her head with it, arching her neck and exposing her throat to his cold hungry eyes. "What do you have to say?"

"I'm sorry." She nearly sobbed at the stinging from her head but the warm secretion between her thighs proved she wasn't hating any of it. This is why she came to him. To be powerless, dominated, and at his mercy. "Please forgive me. I beg you."

He said nothing as he released her and stood, pacing purposefully over to the wooden table at the corner of the room. His gloved hand curled around a lit candle, dribbles of wax spilling over the hollowed brim, dripping down the side and hardening along their descent.

His other arm reached out and snatched up another of his personal favorites. He wheeled around and made his way back to her, bending beside her he set the candle down, reached around her body so his arm lay against her back between her shoulder blades, and cupped her throat in his hand. The leather scratched the cream flesh as he stretched it out and angled her face perfectly.

Leaning in his lips brushed her ear. "I'm going to gag you," he stated, so composed and calm they could have been talking about anything, "and you're going to take it."

She breathed deep, swallowing the anxiety and nodded. His hands came up and she felt the rubber of the bit graze her lips. Her mouth opened automatically and he maneuvered it into place, strapping it at the base of her nape.

When he was finished his hand trailed down her naked back, fingers skimming along her spine, feeling the tremors of anticipated fear. Her skin was cold but his hand was warm and it made the flesh prickle. He traced the dip of her hip, skimming around to her belly where his touch stilled.

She wanted to turn around, rip off the blindfold to see what was coming, but she stilled and waited.

Wet heat ran tantalizing upwards over the curve of her hip to her back agonizingly slow and when he reached her shoulder he bit down, scraping the bluntness of his teeth there till an imprint of his jaw remained. She swallowed around the bit, droll escaping her lower lip and sliding down her chin.

He was truly going to torture her this time.

Her hips rolled wanting his hand to move lower.

A wicked grin splayed over his lips. She knew it was there because she felt his mouth curl on her shoulder and then suddenly his leg was lifted and he had positioned his hard body above hers, his front to her back.

Moaning she was convinced her was about to take her. Despite feeling the coarseness of smooth leather she could swear he was going to do it. He rarely ever took his pants off anyway.

Her hips pushed back, rubbing the damp cloth of her panties against the smooth leather sealing away the engorged flesh of, what she knew personally, to be a rather extravagant and awesome erection.

Her head was tugged back, his lips to her ear as his hand moved from her stomach and clutched the velvet skin of her breast. Her kneaded her rather brutally, fingers pinching the erect nipple till her spine arched up as she tried to move away. There would certainly be bruises on her body later.

"Always so impatient," he whispered, blowing a breath into her ear making her skin blossom in goose bumps and her head jerk at the tickling sensation in her ear. "We haven't even gotten to the fun stuff yet."

Growling around the bit she rolled her body sensually and persistent into his, her damp core rubbing his firm cock, urging him on. She nearly pouted when her actions received no response. He didn't groan in pleasure or move his hips with hers in a delicious frictional dry hump and he certainly didn't yank down the flimsy panties and force his way into her dripping tightness.

Instead he leaned up and spanked her harshly. Several blows hit her leaving a deep rouge on her skin beneath her underwear. Her eyes squinted shut tight under the blindfold as she took the punishment, listening to the clapping of his left hand forcefully meeting her fleshy backside and slender thighs.

Reaching away he plucked the candle off the ground and passed it to his right, his left caressed her ass as he stroked over the red marks there, some gradually turning a sickly yellow as they began to bruise. He swelled with pride and self-righteousness, he absolutely loved leaving evidence of their coupling. She hissed and gurgled around the rubber in her mouth and he relished in the sound.

Smirking he slid his hand down the back of her thigh, tracing a bite mark that still hadn't faded all the way from their last night together. "Don't worry baby," he paused and kissed the base of her spine. "I'm going to give you everything you want and more."

Scowling at his vagueness she felt him guide her legs apart. Her heart hammered, a subconscious whimper filling the air around her as his fingers glided up the insides of her thighs. Inching closer and closer till he pulled the wet crotch of her panties out of the way.

His ring and pointer finger spread her open while the tip of his middle hovered over her opening. Touching the fluid that gushed out he wet his fingertip and stroked around her pussy till he reached her clit. The moment his left hand grazed her pleasure point his right tilted the candle and poured drops of scorching wax along her spine and lower back.

A shrill shriek wormed its way from her mouth, muffled by the bit that was currently lodged between clenched teeth. Her head craned back in ultimate bliss, hips rolling into his hand making him stroke her over and over. He continued paring the pain of the wax with the pleasure of toying with her clit.

Just when she was about to erupt he pulled away and set the candle aside. She whined, her orgasm ripped away from her and her back now covered in a vanilla scented wax. She was thoroughly pissed off with him.

Strong hands clutched her hips in a bruising force as she was yanked, twirled around onto her back she hit the floor with a thunk.

The sound of a zipper rang in her ears and her legs spread instantaneously. A low sinister chuckle started up again and a hot drop of wax landed on her sensitive nipple. Her body bowed upwards, her chest thrusting into the air as wax dripped over her breasts and his mouth lowered to her ribs, nipping and biting his way to her lower stomach.

A quick rush of motion and her panties were torn off, revealing her fully naked form to his eyes. The candle aside his movements became more urgent and frenzied. More animalistic as his aroused state took over.

He bit her beneath her ribcage and gripped her hands by their wrists. When he lifted into a sitting position he placed her hands on the inside of her own thighs causing her to swallow hard. Panting and sweaty and covered in dried white wax, he took in the glorious view and stood up.

Steel eyes cold and glaring down at her wanton form. "Stay and don't move."

Her chest rose and fell sharply with each gasp as he left her briefly.

When he returned he stood at her feet. "Finger yourself and stop before you come."

She did as she was told. The erotic pleasure of masturbating in front of him driving her wild and her body ache deliciously. Her hands stroked her sex line on either side, teased herself by bypassing her throbbing pussy and skimming up her belly to grope her breasts.

Her nipples overly sensitive from the burn of the wax sent a shrill twinge right to her core. Her hips humped air and she tugged her left breast hard, her head pushing into the floor as she treated him to a private show.

The noise of him shifting told her his resolve was wavering and she lowered her hands between her legs. The fingers of her left hand pushed inside, running along her inner walls as her right pinched her clit. Her moaning came out distorted around the rubber bar between her lips as she worked herself towards her climax.

He sat back on his knees, hands taking her knees and spreading her legs wider then bending them up giving him an amazing view of her slippery sex and her fingers pumping inside her. His mouth watered and when she suddenly stopped and pulled her sheen covered hands away he leaned in, placing a kiss on her mound.

She hissed sharply and he leaned away. Arms rising as he crawled over her and scooped up her head. She sat up with him and he pried the bit ties loose slipping it from her mouth. His thumb swiped over her chin to wipe the saliva away and watched her parted lips frown in uncertainty.

Their foreheads came together but their lips did not. He never kissed her.

His hands tapped at the sides of the blindfold, running along the expanse as if deciding whether to take it off or not. He finally did. Pulling the satin away she resisted the urge to open her eyes and look at him without permission.

This made him smile in satisfaction. "Good girl."

His compliment of approval made her soar inside and a smile tugged at her lips. He caressed her cheek and guided her body back into a laying position. His hard body between her legs was such a tease. She was desperate for her climax now but he had no intention of giving it just yet.

He thumbed her sore lips. "I will hear your cries as I eat you out."

A shocked yet relieved smile touched her lips and she moaned, her hips lifting with urgency. He let his hand cup her, his finger pumping playfully in her tight core as she sighed happily. "And when I'm finished," he licked her collarbone, "I will fuck you till I am satisfied. No matter how many times that is, and like a bitch you will lay back and let me."

Her arms found their way over her head and the clanking of metal tightened around her wrists, binding them together by short links making up a metal chain. The freezing heavy weight rubbed her skin, reminding her he was in charge.

Convulsing her hips gyrated up when she felt the plain skin of his cheek press into her inner thigh. He growled dangerously, his mouth gaping then closing tight on the smoothness. A copper taste tainted the warm liquid oozing between his teeth and her cry of pain made his aroused cock throb with want.

Licking the laceration he kissed her leg as she settled, relenting and going ridged on the cold flooring. At her compliance he lowered his head, the wet muscle of his tongue dragging itself lazily over the silken flesh of her moist sex in a rewarding manner.

Her pleasured whimpers rose in octave as he went from short sluggish sweeps to long frenzied licks, her tangy taste lingering in his mouth. He paid special attention to her clit, licking and sucking it between his lips till she was writhing. Her face contorted in desperate feral ecstasy as she pleaded breathlessly.

He ignored her.

Grappling her hips she was tugged back onto her knees, his tongue working its way in and out of her pussy for several seconds before he pulled away. Fingers draped into her hair once more and craned her head back, his hot mouth on the side of her throat as he smacked her back.

The sting was all it took to make her concentrate on the pulsating discomfort and grow oblivious to the shifting of his hips. A harsh jerk forward and he had successfully plunged into her constricting channel, her dripping honey coating his stiff shaft making it incredibly easy to burry himself as deep as possible.

She screamed, arched her back, and rolled her hips as he pulled back and sunk back inside. Their movements were a furry of reckless impatient instincts, bodies pounding relentlessly together, racing one another to beat the competition in the ultimate bliss of gratification.

It was a blur of heavy panting, slapping skin, and fingertips digging achingly for support. The first time of the night had ended sinfully amazing. Rukia, drenched in sweat and trembling from multiple orgasms, held herself up on shaky arms as her lover finally found his own completion nearly an hour later.

Her body singing from the experience, covered in sensitive blotches of bruises and mild irritation from the wax. Hours later he had finally pulled the metal cuffs from her aching wrists and allowed her to cloth herself and return home. True to his word he had used her, abused her body repeatedly till he had taken her a total of five different times, all different positions.

It was late into early morning when she had finally entered the manor, her senses on high alert as she tiptoed through the long hallway that lead to her bedroom. She'd gather her clothing, take a quick shower, and slither into bed before anyone became wise to her.

She pulled the door open and stopped dead in her tracks. She gulped and subconsciously did a mental take of the condition of her body. Was there anything that could be seen? Anything not covered by her uniform that she had to be fearful of?

Byakuya stood from sitting at the edge of her bed, grey eyes burrowing into her very being as he swept his gaze over her disheveled appearance. "Where have you been?"

She gulped and fidgeted with her sleeve, tugging at it to be sure the circular imprints of the handcuffs were covered. "My training ran late. I took a nap afterwards."

His eyes narrowed and she found herself bowing, more to hide her eyes than to show respect. "Forgive me nii-sama. I should have come straight home but I was very tired."

There was a shuffle as he walked passed her stopping only momentarily to glower down at her side. "Get cleaned up and be sure to get adequate sleep. I will not have you coming about at all hours of the night."

"Yes, nii-sama." She choked out as he walked away, padding down the hall to his own bedroom. That was the last night her depravity would happen. She swore it to herself as she gathered her things and shut the bathroom door.

Standing beneath the spray of the shower she rubbed the soap over her body, washing away bits of wax, saliva, and other questionable fluids. She always felt so dirty when it was over, but while it was happening it was purely amazing and it was that feeling he continued to take advantage of time and time again.

She couldn't resist him anymore. They had become too entangled in the game to stop now and she still needed the illusion he presented.

God help her, but she did.

* * *

><p>"Rukia?"<p>

"It's a simple answer Ichigo." She pointed out regaining her composure completely. "I read it in a manga of course."

"A-A manga?" He stuttered in confusion, now feeling strangely disappointed by this fact. But that aside, seriously, what the hell kind of books was she reading?

"Duh," She scoffed. "Where else would I have learned it?"

Ichigo shrugs. Now that he thinks about it being disappointed was not only unorthodox but completely insane. There is no way he'd ever want to think that Rukia learned about anything of that nature from any source but her stupid, and highly inappropriate, books.

He smiles, "nowhere."

When he turns and leaves the room she hears him bounding down the stairs and then a fight between him and his father erupt from the kitchen. She breathes in so deep her lungs strain to accommodate the vast majority of air. Her heart hammers in her chest in pure terror and for some reason she feels incredibly guilty.

Ichigo is her best friend and she just lied to him. He believed her because he trusted her so much and she feels dirty, but then again not as dirty as she would if she had told him that before she understood the difference between family love and sexual pining she had allowed a man play the role of Byakuya and not only beat her, but fuck her into submission.

Yes, that made her feel even dirtier, and disgusted that she still liked that kind of dirty nonetheless.

A mental image distorts in her mind and instead of being dominated by her 'nii-sama' she is under the control of her amber eyed classmate. An even sweeter image appears where he is tied to his bed and she is straddling his hips, bucking wildly in a leather skirt while he lies still beneath her. Blindfold on and a thick band of leather encompassing his throat.

She smiles and suddenly wonders if Ichigo would like that kind of dirty.

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note<strong>: My attempt at smut because I need practice in that department, plus the taboo idea of this was irresistible. You are all free to venture a guess as to who you believe played the role of the dominant ;) And yes, I am ashamed of myself.

This is also a little explanation for Rukia's knowledge in Bleach episode 169.


	5. Hide And Seek

**Title: **Awkward Silences

**By: **CypressArtemis

**Summary: **100+ years of living together, they were bound to have some embarrassing yet touching moments.

**Hide And Seek  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Oily marks appear on the walls,<br>__Where pleasure moments hung before.  
><em>_The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this still life._

- Imogen Heap

* * *

><p><em>I want to find you.<em>

In all the time that she had coexisted with the elegant noble she had come to the conclusion that it was never really living. They didn't live together, this wasn't a home per say, and a true relationship was forever nonexistent.

This house was a playground of elaborate walls, luscious furniture, and priceless artworks. The halls, a maze , the rooms no more than copious hiding places for the resound fearless soldier to scamper like a rat from crevice to crevice.

Rukia, the cat.

_Pry open the frozen crystals that encase your every aspect.  
><em>  
>She lingers on the wooden archway beside the pond, her extravagant kimono draping past her sandalwood sandaled feet in a lush ruffle of lilac silk. The winter chill bites her cheeks and nips at her exposed flesh as it swirls her downy hair laced with crystal snowflakes. The damp tresses cling to her forehead as the frost accumulates on luscious lashes, little white puffs dancing in the sky, swirling in the whipping wind, and coating the earth in a majestic sheen of glittering alabaster.<p>

Clutching the silk in bunches she withdraws farther into the warm security of her oversized clothing. Her arms fold atop the railing of the arched walkway suspended above the frozen basin. When her body pivots and she leans closer her toes imbed themselves in a mound of snow and she shivers, peering over the iron edge. Fresh cool air soars into her lungs as she inhales deeply in moment of tranquility.

Byakuya always reminds Rukia of the thick sheet of frosty ice encasing the koi pond. His stoic features as frozen as the bitter arctic layer, the water gushing furiously beneath like the powerful harmonious spirit energy coursing throughout his muscular body. The vibrant patches of barely distinguishable orange suspended and ignored like his emotions.

At least until the sun casts its warming glow and sunbeams streak down to pierce like Cupid's arrow, melting the winter back into spring.

_That way I may look upon you, and you upon me._

It seemed only fair that she should be privileged to witness such a tender moment as this. After all he has seen her at her worst as well. When she forced herself to stand before his scrutinizing judgmental gaze despite the quivering in her legs. She wanted to drop to the floor like his lifeless body and scream like a banshee as rain and blood ran rivets over her skin and uniform, dripping onto his priceless wooden floorboards.

Sitting beside him now his form is hunched at the breakfast table, his thin brows are narrowed, black circles marring the skin beneath his eye sockets, his hair downcast and unhindered while a forlorn glint is cast in eyes greyer than storm clouds.

Eyes that are dead like hers where.

Dead like Kaien.

Dead like his wife.

"Nii-sama?" She is genuinely concerned by his disheveled appearance and even more so by the fact that he still remains in the dusty blue sleeping robes rather than his uniform. "Are you…?"

'Not well?'

'Bothered by something?'

'Upset over anything?'

'Alright?'

She clears her throat and swallows the lump in her throat. Her violet hues lower to stare at his portion of a piping hot bowl of untouched rice and the minuscule cup of green tea, steam still lofting upwards from both items along with a side dish of miso soup. "… Not going to work today?"

His eyes are focused on the blooming plum blossom outside the nearby window. Its vivid pink petals twirling in the spring breeze, descending upon emerald blades. He never looks away, he hardly blinks, and he barely makes a sound. A simple word slithers from his pouted lips in a way that makes her frown at just how vulnerable and hoarse his voice sounds. "No."

She has the urge to inch closer towards him, maybe even touch him, if for no other reason that just to let him know that she is there. She wants to run back to her room, throw on her sleeping robe currently bundled and heaped in the corner of her room. She'll ruffle up her hair; pull it out of place till it sticks up at odd angles and return to sit beside him. At least then he will still look like the perfect noble compared to her.

_We shall know the truth._

Rukia was no stranger to fear no matter what she'd like others to think, but she swears she could count the number of times she has ever truly been afraid on one hand. The kind of fear that makes your heart leap into your throat, your body break out into a cold sweat, and your hands tremble uncontrollably.

The first time was when she had audience with the Kuchiki's and received news of their desire to adopt her.

The second was the night Kaien had been possessed by a hollow.

The third was when her brother had come looking for her and she was convinced without doubt that Ichigo was dead.

The fourth was when Gin had decided to taunt her before her execution.

The fifth and final time was watching her brother fall to his knees, Gin's blade protruding from his chest.

She had panicked to an almost hysterical level and maybe it was her reaction to his near death experience that he had decided to inform her of a secret he had guarded more closely than his own heart. In a moment of weakness that they shared Bykauya had managed to add a sixth fear to her list.

That she would have died never knowing how much she meant to him.

_You are not perfect. _

She doesn't know what to think at this moment. In fact she isn't sure she can think at all to be honest. She doesn't even know what she feels other than utterly exhausted.

She blinks the sleep out of her midnight eyes as she stares at him kneeling beside her bed. His heavy hand sill cupping her shoulder, his thumb dragging lazily, soothingly, over the top of her shirt sleeve absentmindedly. He is winded from standing and roaming the halls while still recovering from the injury that was meant for her.

He looks composed, relaxed, with a distant longing masking his unease. His unoccupied hand is tugging her blankets up to her chin as he readies to leave her in peace for the night. An overwhelming urge to say it again has brought him here and now that it's out he straightens to leave.

Her tiny delicate hand stops him as she curls her fingers around his wrist. She pulls his hand to her, touching the back of it to her cheek as she taps her fingers gently in reassurance. "I forgive you, Byakuya."

He is not perfect because the perfect never have to apologize.


	6. Comfort

**Title: **Awkward Silences

**By: **CypressArtemis

**Summary: **100+ years of living together, they were bound to have some embarrassing yet touching moments.

* * *

><p><em>In days to come when your heart feels undone,<br>May you always find an open hand.  
>And take comfort wherever you can, you can, you can.<em>

_So cry, why not?_  
><em>We all do.<em>  
><em>Then turn to the one you love.<em>  
><em>- Deb Talan<em>

* * *

><p>Kuchiki Byakuya, though surrounded by lavish royalties, has always been a man of simplicity.<p>

He follows a strict regime everyday down to the letter to avoid chaotic nohow.

If one where ever granted the privaliage of gawking at the interior of his bedroom one might find it oddly plain, barren, boring even, once compared to the rest of the house.

The main and possibly only thing that people notice that give away his fondness for candor is his behavior in general.

Disinterested, bored, monotone, and meticulous in both movement and speech.

There is never a quick snappy gesture, a flick of the hand, or a proverbial twitch. Every movement he makes is slow, deliberate, and simple.

He speaks only when he absolutely must and is more times than not a detached curt dismissal.

Simple.

He is a man of little words, absolutely, but not because he does not have them. Byakuya is sure that for every sentence he hears he can think up at least four different replies, moderately friendly or otherwise.

No, Kuchiki Byakuya was not one to be at a loss of words. Instead he relied on facial expressions and body language to convey his boredom in underlings and fellow captains.

He doesn't spout his mouth off anymore because he is a grown man, a captain, a Kuchiki. He no longer indulges those inner childish tantrums of his youth so he has no reason to explain himself.

There is, however, three prominent times in his life where he could be forced to admit that his mind drew a blank and rendered him speechless.

The first was seeing his gorgeous bride on their wedding day. All smiles and beaming purple eyes full of love staring up at him beneath the swirling pink of cherry trees.

The second was the day he met Rukia, a haunting vision of his ghostly wife standing before him. There was no smile or eyes full of love that day, just a distraught and nervous face that found her shoes more interesting than himself.

The third and final time was the night she sauntered into the manor at a most ungodly hour. He had waited for her to show for dinner and when she didn't come he figured she had stayed late for work, which technically she had.

He met her at the door when one of the servants bounded down the hallways shrieking for towels in a high pitched squeal of terror.

When he shoved open his door and began to step out into the corridor, said maid nearly toppled over his towering form in her sprint towards the doorway. He remembered she never took the time to stop, to glance over her shoulder even, let alone apologize.

He could say that was also the first day he had been disrespected as the Kuchiki Lord.

Eyes narrowed and brows knit in annoyance his fingers secured his zanpakuto to his hip as he paced down the hall to the source of commotion.

The storm outside was raging. Thunder shook the walls with a roaring boom while rain pelted the windows in a frenzy. Lightning bolts streaked the sky, flashing and lighting the rooms with their unearthly glow for split second intervals.

Annoyance clawed at his mind and his eyes set in a disapproving stare. A frown littering his lips as he made ready to reprimand his sister, for that's all it could be.

She was always doing something, always in trouble for something, and the only thought that could occupy his mind was that she had tracked mud and rainwater all over his freshly polished floor. The maids were simply trying to clean her mess before he saw it.

At least that was what he assumed and he was prepared for this situation. Already had a carefully planned dialogue prepared for the occasion as he finally rounded the corner and stepped out into the vast open space.

He halted, abruptly.

Yes there were maids mopping up water and grime off the floor but the towels were staining a deep richness of color he usually only saw in the midst of battle.

Rukia stood in the door, an expression devoid enough to rival his own on his best day as a maid ran a freshly clean towel over her hair, crunching the dark locks and draining more of that horrible color from her being.

Her sword lay scattered and forgotten at her feet. The now silver blade tinged scarlet as it oozed and dripped like molasses onto the floorboards.

In this moment he was at a complete loss and he blinked at her in shock as she stared back with lifeless eyes, more dead than Hisana when he clutched her hand for the last time.

Silence stretched between them. A pregnant pause of utter discomfort that threatened to remain unbroken for years.

What was he supposed to say?

What was the brotherly thing to say at this moment?

Are you ok?

Are you hurt?

What happened?

His grey eyes drifted shut and he turned his back to her, not wanting to look at her eyes anymore. That was not his sister.

She may put on an act for him, pretending to be calm, collected, and elegant, when she is really fiery, short-tempered, and brash, but he knew her eyes. A normal deep hue of violet sparkling with life and determination had been replaced by a dull, tired, and dead stare.

So he did what every warrior does in a time of weakness, when they are back up against a wall and drawing a blank on an adequate course of action.

He retreated.

Leaving her behind with the servants tripping about themselves to dry both her and the floor.

It must have been several hours that he lay awake listening to the storm and the mournful cries filtering from his sister's room. If she knew the storm wasn't masking her distraught yelps then she certainly didn't care.

Still oblivious to her trauma he remained steadfast in his desire to remain locked within his room and avoid the humiliating truth that he hadn't the slightest idea of what to do.

Asking her would only cause her to wail more, besides he had no words.

They abandoned him just like his beloved simplicity.

Gone, when she walked into his life it had all vanished.

So he lies still upon crisp sheets, tucked securely beneath the ivory embroidered blanket as he ticks off his memories on his fingertips.

His door opens suddenly and she shuffles in sniffling and appearing quite disheveled. She is dry and changed, but her hair is a mess, sticking up at all angles as it usually does when she forgets to brush it.

Her delicate hand slides the door shut and she moves closer, standing at the foot of his bed like a lost puppy begging for a little compassion.

In her arms is a stuffed toy bunny he recalls giving her on her birthday. It's white fur is matted and bristled where tears have landed and dried.

Pathetic.

That is how she looks and they both know it as she continues to gaze with glassy eyes, waiting for a dismissal or a conformation.

Byakuya says nothing.

There are no words to say as he lifts the corner of the blanket and watches her climb into his bed. She turns to face the door, her white rabbit tucked tight to her chest and under her chin.

For the first time tonight, and possibly since she's gotten there, he does the brotherly thing and tucks the blanket around her shoulders to keep her warm.

Neither says anything as he lays back and inches towards the window to put more space between them.

She peeks over her shoulder at his retreating form and shuffles with the blanket till her arm if free. Her soft fingers grip his left wrist and a firm tug has it uncurling to rest stretched upon the bed. He is bewildered and even more so when she maneuvers backwards till her back hits his side and his arm in buried beneath her shivering body.

His eyes are fixed on the ceiling till she is finished fussing about beside him and finally settles herself. His head rolls to the side away from her and his eyes droop closed in a attempt to sleep.

Rukia grasped her bunny tighter as fresh tears slid down her already stained cheeks.

She lay motionless on his arm listening to the steady evenness of his breaths. She could have been simply a stuffed toy, much like her bunny, had Nii-sama ever decided to lower and debase himself with such childish nonsense.

Certainly he didn't now and the notion was completely ridiculous, but had he as a child?

Her mind screamed no but her heart hoped the answer was yes. After all, even the White Emperor deserved comfort.


End file.
